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A Request for Assistance
The recent events have set the Corporate Sector ablaze with speculation. Rumors abound, press attempt to take statements, and CSA Security continues its hunt for the disgraced former Prex of the Direx board, G. S. Qwynt VIII. Neither hide nor hideous hair has been found of him yet, and to top it off, the CSA Star Destroyer has apparently vanished into thin air. How such a large ship could have simply winked out of existence is quite a conundrum, but with Espos on the chase, it's only a matter of time before all is resolved. The other members of the board have now been cleared to leave the system, as they have all been questioned thoroughly and found to be innocent, a pronouncement that was certainly helped along by Qwynt's flight. However, there are many members that elect to stay planetside, hovering like Coruscanti spiderbats around the broken shards of the Direx board. The call for a vote has been put in, and all wait with baited breath to see where their next leader will take them, and how they can best secure their power bases in these turbulent times. Having learned his lesson from his previous encounter with IGNews, Smitherbodkins has not made any sort of statement. He has, however, arranged a meeting with Miranda Jabs, soon-to-be ExO of the Direx Board. He is a man of his word, after all, and he promised her a shipment of sedatives for her workers who, no doubt, have seen the ex-Prex's communication and will soon be striking outright. Miranda Jabs sits in her office on the space station Theseus. She has been awaiting today's meeting with Smitherbodkins, hoping that he would come through on the delivery he promised her. The messages being inserted directly into the CSA's programming by the departed Prex had inflamed already high tensions in some of her factories, and some reports of violence erupting had already begun to trickle in. Hopefully it was not too late. As the man is admitted into her office, however, Miranda remains neutral, not revealing her worries about her profits. It was, after all, an election week. "Mr. Smitherbodkins," she says, graciously, standing as he enters. "Please, have a drink." A verpine female in the corner extends a glass of the same Corellian ale Smitherbodkins himself chose at his last meeting. The presence of the Verpine does not seem to unsettle the man as it did in his previous visit; in fact, he nods cordially to the female as he accepts his drink, even favoring her with a small smile. The drink is welcomed, and he takes a small sip, his enjoyment evident. "Ms. Jabs," he says once he's swallowed, "thank you for seeing me. My men are unloading that shipment we spoke about into the FoxTech warehouse as we speak. So sorry about all the unpleasantness regarding this deal." He makes his way to a chair in front of her desk, settling himself down in it comfortably and crossing one ankle of the other knee in a relaxed posture. "May I be the first to congratulate you on your new position on the Direx board?" A sardonic smile quirks his lips upward as he says this. Strange how confident his words seem, as the votes haven't yet been tallied. A ripple of relief passes over Miranda's face as Smitherbodkins announces the arrival of the shipment. She doesn't mention payment. He should know it is probably already on its way. Jabs wastes no time in settling debts. At his congratulations, she simply smiles, and says, "Thank you. I hope to have everything under control for my Vice to take over for me when I take the position." She, too, does not seem to have any doubt about who will win. "Have you had any trouble with your workers and this so-called "Army" she asks, making air quotes with her fingers, her expression turning neutral again. A chuckle escapes Smitherbodkins at her question, and he shakes his head, "Not as of yet, Ms. Jabs, not as of yet. But as you know, Bodkins Antiquities has nowhere near the amount of workers that FoxTech can boast of. Mine is a small operation." At least, the part of it that's legal is. "However, I have something coming down the pipe that may be a bit more troublesome. Though as you know, a righteous cause does bring beings together quite well." From the smile on his face, it's clear he's not talking about the PLA. He doesn't expand on this yet, however; simply asks, "Have you heard anything from Security about a trace on the ship?" "Nothing yet," the CEO says, her pursed lips inching over to one side in disgust. "I have sent out a few highly motivated teams to track him down, with generous rewards upon success. Security is good, but they can always use some help, don't you agree, Mr. Smitherbodkins?" She leans forward in her seat a little, placing her elbows on the desk. "But please, is there anything I can do to help with your problem in the pipes?" She does not smile. Miranda Jabs does not do puns. "Indeed they can, Ms. Jabs," Smitherbodkins agrees as he takes another sip of the delicious libation, truly nectar of the gods to any Corellian. "I can see that the Direx board shall be in good hands in my absence." He pauses, regarding her thoughtfully. The moment of silence stretches into another, then another, past the point of politeness. He doesn't seem to notice; his eyes search her face, as if expecting to find some answer there, the question as yet known only to himself. Finally, after the pause that has no doubt become quite awkward, he says, "Perhaps you can. Do you wish to know why I resigned my position from the board?" Miranda sits quietly during Smitherbodkins's suspenseful pause. She does not move a muscle, lest she betray eagerness or frighten him off from speaking. As the question from Mr. Smitherbodkins comes, Miranda smiles in an almost motherly fashion. "Of course. The departure of Bodkins Antiquities was a great shock. I know that I could have counted on your support whe-- if I became ExO. I felt as if I had lost an arm. Please, what was the cause? Not the Toydarian, I hope?" Smitherbodkins waves away the mention of the disgusting creature as easily as one might swat a Nabooian mosquitobird. "The Toydarian's antics mean less than nothing to me. No one will follow him, and if they do, it shall merely be the dregs of the galaxy that feed off our backbreaking labor. There are always malcontents that think things should be handed to them simply because they have been born into the galaxy, and no doubt Mr. Qwynt's rhetoric will speak to those. However, they are neither intelligent enough nor industrious enough to organize into anything that might resemble a threat." "No, I am interested in much bigger things, Ms. Jabs. Bigger, and more dear to my heart." He pauses once more, though thankfully not long enough this time to have watched an entire episode of As the Sector Turns, "I resigned because I did not want to appear conflicted in the eyes of the board when the announcement broke that I have acquired the Corellian Engineering Corporation." Jabs nods along well enough at Mr. Smitherbodkins well-spoken speech about the type of being who would follow G. S. Qwynt VIII. But when he drops the bombshell about the Corellian Engineering Corporation, it actually does visibly stun Miranda Jabs. Her mouth opens partly and now it is her turn to pause for a moment. "Well, Mr. Smitherbodkins, that _is_ news. I suppose congratulations are in order. Will you be taking the Direx spot that CEC now holds? That is quite a coup. I never thought they would sell. Tell me, how did you manage?" Jabs would know. She tried to buy that corporation many years ago and failed. She is not beneath learning. Smitherbodkins inclines his head in a bow that's reminiscent of his usual, more flourish-y ones, though perhaps not as ostentatious. "Thank you, Ms. Jabs. It has been my lifelong dream to own the CEC, and I hope that this will be the dawn of a new era for Corellia...and, of course, for the CEC." He's as smug as the direcat when she caught Qwynt in her jaws at that fateful board meeting, and when she poses her question about the Direx position, he answers, "But of course. How could I not? After all, it is written in the contract that I must. It's quite ironclad; I had my lawyers peruse it thoroughly." "As for the how, well, that is easy enough. The former CEO was infamous at the House of Sabacc. She made a bet she could not honor, and anyone who comes though those doors must honor their wagers, one way or another." It's even written on the door. "I have plans for the CEC, and for Corellia, Ms. Jabs. I hope they may include you." Miranda Jabs inclines her head slightly, "Excellent. I was going to miss your face at the Direx meetings, as well as your wise council. I am glad that you will be rejoining us soon." She shakes her head at the story of the sabaac game. "Ah yes, another reason I never gamble, although I suppose it has worked out for you, Mr. Smitherbodkins. But not so well for the former CEC CEO, you see." This piece of news was interesting, but not helpful to her. That is not how she does business. "Where might I fit in, tell me?" she asks charmingly. This is the question that Smitherbodkins has been waiting for. The shipment of sedative, the chitchat about the unpleasantries of the board meeting, the unwelcome reminder of Qwynt's ridiculous new zealotry, all this is preamble to the main event in his mind. "Ms. Jabs, I shall be frank with you, as I know that you value candor most highly. I sympathize with these so-called "freedom fighters," but only with their immediate goal. With the Empire gone on Corellia and the New Republic installed, there will be much more leeway for me to pursue my true aims." He takes a deep breath, his eyes taking on the sheen of the jingoistic; brave, dashing, and more than a little crazy. "I want a sovereign Corellia, Ms. Jabs. The New Republic is just another chain, as far as I'm concerned. Think of it: an independent stronghold, taking no side in the conflict, but producing the most valued items. Think of the opportunities." While Miranda is loathe to loose any world to the clutches of the New Republic, she also recognizes the value of what Smitherbodkins is saying. After all, Corellians are human, and it would be criminal to enslave a planet of humans. As long as the end goal is an independent Corellia, and not one paying fealty to the New Republic, she can get on board. "I think, Mr. Smitherbodkins, that we here in the Corporate Sector create the most valued items, at the very best prices," she begins, with a thin smile, "However. I see the value of your argument." Another chuckle escapes Smitherbodkins at this, and he nods genially, holding his empty hand in front of him in a placating gesture, "Of course, I do not mean to belittle what you do, Miranda. You know that your company is the most profitable one in the CSA." Of course, that's quite true; some of the profits are even legal. "But I am glad you see my side. This could be the dawning of a new age for Corellia, and for the CSA as well. We shall leave our mark in history." Miranda stands. "Please, Mr. Smitherbodkins, do not hesitate to call on me and tell me anything I can do to help you get settled at the CEC, or to push through any last minute negotiations. I have a team of lawyers like you wouldn't believe." How else would see stay out of prison? "I am afraid you will have to excuse me, I have another meeting in a matter of moments." "Thank you for your offers of assistance, Ms. Jabs," Smitherbodkins says, rising to his feet and offering her a deep bow, "And thank you, as well, for spending your valuable time meeting with me. Your hospitality is nonpareil, as always. We shall be in touch." With that, Smitherbodkins sets the half-empty glass down on the desk, and turns, striding out of the room without so much as a backward glance.